Secrets of the Unseen
by CallMeJess5793
Summary: Bella is a 17 year-old girl with with a problem, she is invisible. not in the literal sense however she is not the most noticed person at school. with the growing self esteem issuse, belle has to learn to keep herself a float. until now! Writn By My Cousi
1. Chapter 1

Here I sit, alone, bored and drawing nonsense on my book. Basically I am bored to death. And why is this? This is because Mr. Swanston is droning on about the 'gratification' we will apparently receive while continuing to study literature at a university level. I roll my eyes, because I am sick of hearing the same thing every lesson, every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. But I don't think that I am the only one who has discontinued their attention from the useless lecture. The bell rings and the sound of stacking books quickly fill's the room. I want to get out of the class and avoid any contact with Mr. Swanston. Unfortunately my plan is quickly executed, with his voice.

"Isabella, can I see you for a moment?" I hear his voice. I sighed a deep sigh and turn on my heels, so much for being saved by the bell. The classroom is completely empty now; there is only him and I.

"You do not seem to like my class" he says, while shuffling through paperwork on his desk. I look at him. Wow. I have to give the guy credit; he can pick up on unspoken teenage social cues, when I personally thought he was a 35 year old man who spent more times alone with books then women.

"What makes you say that, sir?" I reply as sweetly as possible.

He looks up at me, over the rims of his black reading glasses, "You roll your eyes every time I open my mouth." He continues to glare at me. I think he wants to be intimidating, but I feel for the guy, he could not even intimidate a fruit fly.

"Ahhh, no I don't. It's just I feel that I have a qualified understanding of the importance on taking on Literature for further study…" I clap my hands together, like I am praying and begin swaying them back and forth, "…. And I just don't want you to have to feel the need to continuously repeat yourself every…waking….moment." I try to use as serious as possible. I look upon him with a smirk on my face, I had no idea where that came from, I never talk back but I did love the satisfaction that I was gaining when defeating my opponent. However my victory was short lived.

"Well…I think we should sit down and have a discussion on my teaching approach…" "Oh, let's do that…." I cut him off. "…in detention", he says.

He looks at me with a smirk on his face. My jaw drops.

"What for?" I ask, completely baffled.

"Well Miss Swan, I do not think you have a clear understanding of what literature really is, and it would give me great _pleasure _if I was able to give you a very personal development session for you in that field."

He shuffles through his papers as slowly as possible to find a detention slip; I know he is doing this purposely to get back at me for being a little smartass. He begins filling out the red form.

"See you tomorrow" he sing-songs, handing me the sheet. I snatch the sheet from his hand and do not respond; I begin to slowly shuffle outside, muttering curse words in English and French under my breath and vowing to myself never to speak my mind ever again.

I make my way to my locker; throw the detention slip in my bag, as well as my books. I am fuming with anger that I have lost my appetite, so I close the locker and begin making my way to the 'seat' I sit at everyday in and out. When I turn the corner out of the locker I smack into Savannah, however she does not say anything, I don't even think she saw me. Savannah is everything everybody wants to be. With her Bambi blue eyes and golden hair which sits dead straight along her back and not to mention her typical skinny "good looking" body, see is the envy of every girl at school, everyone that is besides me.

Rosalie suddenly comes into view. Rosalie is my best friend, and I adore her to bits. I have known her for almost twelve years, which seems like a lifetime to me.

"Hey Bella, how you going?" she asks, having her jaw dropping smile plastered across her face.

"Hey Ella…" I respond, "…I am not feeling to good. Swanston gave me an after school", "What?!" she shrieks, "What did you do?" I can tell that she is baffled, just like me.

"I decided that I wanted to be spontaneous, so I said to myself, 'Bella you're in year 11, do something spontaneous. Make the teachers remember you for a lifetime', the next thing I know, he was writing out a form" I shake my head in disappointment, "I will never try and be spontaneous again".

Rosalie looks at me, "You are such a tool" she giggles.

"I know" I say with a silly grin, which by the way is completely a fake smile.

"So what are we doing Friday night?" she asks, bitting into her orange, after a silent pause.

"Umm, don't know. Whatever I guess, just as long as I don't have to keep track of you" I said, looking around the school yard. I hate this school, I really do. Mum and dad gave me the option of going to a semi-private catholic school, I was all up for it, but at the last minute I buckled. I did not want to have to make new friends. Then there would have to be the whole playing a 'silent mute' and spending my final schooling years just praying and hoping that someone will feel sorry for me and then 'save' me from my own self pity. So like I said, I 'bit the bullet' and just went with the flow, I followed the crowd. And now I am stuck at a mediocre public school with everything from sluts to bitches and jocks to geeks, nothing in between.

"You don't ever have to keep track of me, I take care of myself, thank you" she responded, looking a little offended.

"Ah, what about the time you lied to your parents, using me as a decoy and then spending a whole week of school in 'god-knows-where' with 'what's-his-face' and then there is me back here covering your ass" I say getting the tinniest bit frustrated, Rosalie knows that what I am saying is true, but she refuses to accept that she is in the wrong, so I give up.

"Whatever, I am just saying; I don't want to have to act like your mum, 'Kay?" "Alright, alright…relax" she mutters. I shake my head in disbelief and get up to go to the toilets. As I make my way there I am almost decapitated by a soccer ball, attacked by banana peels and knocked to the ground by testosterone controlled guys. When I finally reach the safety of the toilets, I run to the last cubical and lock the door. I did not really need to use the toilet but I just needed to be alone for a little bit.

Ever since I moved to this school I do it all the time. After about two minutes I have had enough, plus the smell was really getting to me, so I unlock the door and make my way out. As I reach the sinks, Savannah and her little groupies are there, reapplying makeup. I do not know whether to push in between them or to just wait until they are finished. I decide to wait. I lean on the white, cold tiles on the back wall and I try to not make any eye contact with the plastics in the mirror.

I begin to wonder if they can see me or am I invisible to them, my question was soon answered. The girls were just about done and when they turned to leave, they did not even take a little glance at me. I took that as being invisible. I shuffled to the sink, too scared to look in the mirror ahead, worrying that I would not see my own reflection. I hear the bell ring for the next class, great more English.

English was so bad. No one read the required text, except for me and Mr. Jon had to point that out to everyone. All I wanted to do at that moment was to dig a hole and bury myself. Then to make matters worse, he made me stand in front of the class and talk about the entire book.

The whole time I was up there, I could feel my face get redder and redder by the second but I could also see that my audience was not interested in what I had to say, which was not anything new to me at this school. When the bell finally went I was the first one out. It was five-past-three which meant I could go home and I was grateful for that. I close my locker door and begin walking home. I always walk home, it is the best part of the day for me because I don't have to talk to anyone or continuously wonder if people can see me. I put some ear phones in my ear and turn my I-pod on full blast.

The whole way I look around, at the homes, the parks and the people who walk past me while the husky voice of James Blunt fills my ears. When I get home I am alone, what bliss. I throw my bag onto floor in front of the door, making a mental note to myself to move it before my parents get home. I walk into the kitchen, my stomach growling for food, making my way to the cupboard. I open it eyeing off for something fattening and sweet, but there is nothing so I go for the chips, salty will have to do.

I shuffle to the lounge and sit on the couch putting my legs up. I flick through the channels to try and distinguish what time it is. All there is kid shows so I estimate it to be at least around four. Stumped on what to do I decide to try and attempt completing some homework, which sounded so _tempting_. I sigh to myself and collect my bag from the front door. I walk upstairs to my room, humming to myself.

I open the door of the room and I smell the scent of the perfume I sprayed on myself that morning. It's a musky, vanilla scent and I breathe it in. I walk over to my desk, place my bag on top of it and slowly take out all my books. I sit on my chair and pull out all the equipment I need from my bag and get to work.

When I finish it's eleven-thirty. Wow I spent hours up here. Suddenly I hear footsteps climbing the stairs. They are light and dainty; I know immediately that it's mum. The hall light switches on and I can see the ray of light creeping from under my closed door. The door opens quietly and I can see mum's shadow growing across the carpet floor.

"Hey baby, what are you still doing up?" she whispers. I stretch, "Doing homework" I reply through a yawn. Mum nods in understanding, she walks towards me "Good night Bella" she says and leans in to kiss my forehead. She turns to leave but I stop her, I have to give her the detention slip to sign. "Ah mum…." I hesitate, I don't want her to get mad or angry or even worse- disappointed. She turns to look at me, not saying anything, waiting patiently for me to continue talking.

"Can you please sign this" I whisper, pulling out the detention form from under all my books. Mum takes the piece of paper and opens it. I watch her read what Mr. Swanston had written, a grin appears across her face. She looks up at me and chuckles.

"Is this the teacher you don't like?" she asks.

"Yeah" I respond. She places her hand in front of me and beckons for a pen. I hand one to her and she signs the paper.

"You're not mad?" I ask confused at her reaction and she chuckles again. "Don't worry Bella. I use to get into more trouble then this when I was in school. I got suspended because I flashed all the year 8 boys when I was in year 11, I was dared to" she shakes her head in disbelief.

"You have to learn to be spontaneous in your life Bella. If you don't jump now, you never will".

With that she kisses me again on the forehead and turns to leave. I get up and quickly change into my pyjamas and jump into bed. I lie there for what feels like hours, with what my mum said racing through my head. How was I supposed to jump? Will taking that leap of faith change me? Snap me back to my normal self? I do not think that is possible.


	2. Chapter 2

It's Thursday, after school and I'm stuck in study hall, on detention due to Mr. Swanston not being able to take healthy criticism. There are about twenty other kids in here, all the regulars I guess. Mr. Swanston has given me lines to do, '_I shall not question the preaching of those who are qualified to do so'. _I roll my eyes; this method of punishment was so medieval. I was told to write as much as I could, so I would learn to remember not continue to 'preach to the preacher'. After about two and a-half pages I stop. I stand and walk to Mr. Swanston's office, which is across from the study hall. I knock on the door and another teacher it.

"Umm, is Mr. Swanston here?" I mumble. "Brad, it's for you" she says, manoeuvring around me, to get out.

"Ah, my dear Miss. Swan, are we done?" he asks smiling, from his desk. I look at him, not smiling still standing in the doorway.

"Yes sir. I am _converted_" I sigh, "Can I leave now?" I ask. He beckons towards the door. "Yes you may".

I turn on my heels and walk towards the door. When I am out, I feel so good. I walk to the front of the school anticipating my walk home. However I was shocked to see that mum was there waiting in the school's car park. I see her looking out to find me and when she does, she smiles and I smile back. I begin running. I am glad that no one else is out here, because if there was I would not be running. I can barely walk properly without tripping over my own two feet, but mum was here so I decide that today is an exception.

"Hi Bella" she says, when I open the passenger door.

"Hey mum" I say leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, a little puffed.

"Oh, so I need a motive to want to pick up my baby from school?" she says, acting offended. I look at her trying not to laugh, but I buckle, I begin giggling.

"So what did we learn about Literature today?" she questions, starting the car, preparing to indicate onto the main road.

"I am now converted mother, I shall not preach to the preacher" I say in the most sophisticated voice I can do.

She laughs, "Well I am not happy, I thought raised a child who knew to speak her own mind and who was always spontaneous" she says. "

What has happened to her?" I look over at her, my smile disappears.

"Mum you know that I am not like that" I whisper, looking out the side window, I didn't want to look at her at that moment and see her disappointed face. I always wished that I was prettier, braver, and smarter. I have always wanted to be someone that I wasn't, someone like Rosalie, who everyone loved to be around and was intelligent or Savannah, who everyone gawked at and adored but when I came here, I realised that I could not be those things because people never noticed me, so I just kept quiet and evidently I became invisible.

"Yes you are Isabella. You are smart, beautiful, confident and spontaneous. Do not listen to those who judge you, they are the incapable ones" she says, seriously.

I do not reply and neither does she. We spend the next twenty minutes in silence. When we get home I jump out of the car quickly to avoid anymore awkward silences between us.

"Is there anything special you want for dinner?" she asks quietly. I shake my head, "No, I am fine". I hasten to the front door and head straight to my room. I quietly close the door and turn on my cd-player. John Mayer's voice fills my room, and I breathe slowly, trying to relax. Seeing as I had already completed all my homework the previous night, I was stumped for ideas on what to do.

I decided to take a hot shower. I gathered all the things I would need to use, and made my way to the bathroom. When I get there I lock the door and turn on the light. I strip into my bra and undies and take my hair out of the ponytail at the back of my head and I allow my long brown hair to fall around my shoulders. I look into the mirror to see if I could see something where my reflection is supposed to be. I step forward, still gazing, amazed that there was some thing starring back at me.

I slowly raise my hand to my face and place it on my cheek. I feel the warmth of my skin; I watch as my cheeks begin blushing into a pale red colour. I always have blushing cheeks. I begin moving my fingers across my small nose, I am thankful that God blessed me with my mum's nose, as my father has quite a large nose himself. My nose has no bump like most people. It is dainty and well shaped. I move my fingers up my nose toward my eyebrows. I trace my right brow.

I have no brow bone, but I do have thin, naturally shaped eyebrows, which I rarely have to pluck, thank God. Next I look into the reflection of my eyes in the mirror. I lean right in to the mirror so that the tip of my nose is lightly pressed up against it; I can feel the how cold the glass of the mirror is. My eyes are almond shaped, lined with many thin lashes. My eyes are not too big and not to small, they are in between. Their colour however is a mixture. To me they are like a forest, a distinct mixture of dewy greens and humble browns. My eyes are the only feature of my face I like.

If people actually looked into them they would see a mixture of mystery, sadness and a thirst for adventure, but seeing as I am invisible, people can not look into my eyes, so the adventurous desire that is in them is a hidden desire I will never experience. Lastly there are my lips, which sit at the bottom of my face, alone and away from the other features. My lips are plump and a dark pink.

They hardly ever stay closed; I always have the smallest gap between them and if you look long enough you can usually see my orthodontic straight teeth through the gap. Finally I reach the rest of my body, the curvy hourglass figure that has fat wherever you pinch; this is my beloved size fourteen body which I despise with every fibre of my being. Suddenly I shiver violently and feel Goosebumps rise all over my body. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as well. I quickly strip naked and jump into the shower.

I turn on the hot water immediately, forgetting how cold I was, I accidentally scorch myself. After a few moments my body temperature changes with the hot running water. I stand still and allow the water fall gently all over my body. I feel relaxed with every drop of water that falls onto my pale skin.

After standing in the shower for five minutes, slowly relaxing the muscles in my body, I shampoo and condition my hair, scrub my body and cleanse my face. After fifteen minutes I am done. I step out of the shower carefully so I don't slip and fall. Knowing me, that am a high risk occurrence, I dry myself quickly so I can slip into my track-suit pants and hooded jumper.

I towel dry my hair and clean up the mess I made. I make my way to the laundry. I walk past the kitchen and can see mum and dad playing around while dinner was simmering away in the pot. I could smell the sautéing onions and boiling tomato sauce. Mum was making pasta; the aroma was making my mouth water.

"Bella!" dad shouts, he runs at me and grabs me into a bear hug kissing my wet hair.

"Dad…can't…breathe…" I mange to whisper, he let's go, but leaves his arm resting across my shoulders.

"I was just saying to mum how beautiful you look now that you have grown up" he looks down at me and winks.

"I think you could give your mum a run for her money, she wasn't this good looking at your age…" I look down at what I was wearing. How someone can see beauty underneath baggy pants, puffy hooded jumpers and wet hair is beyond me. A moment later I feel dad's presence from my side disappear, I follow the sounds of dad's footsteps and feel mum run past me. When she reaches him she jumps onto his back and they start play fighting, they are both hysterical. I think the maturity skipped their generation. I shake my head and turn to walk to the laundry.

I throw my clothes into the washing basket and head back to the lounge planning to watch television. I walk in and see that dad has put on their song from their younger days. He has mum in his arms and they are swaying back and forth, slowly.

I watch them and I don't think they can see me in the room. I don't want to ruin their 'moment' so I walk straight to my room without breathing a word. When I get there I walk around my bed to the wall that contains all of my photos. I look at each picture for a moment or two. The whole wall contained stills of my life that I would never be able to live again; all the happiest memories that I am unable to ever feel again.

Eventually I come across one picture in particular. It is of Rosalie and i at camp last year. It was when we went to the northern coast; I remember that day so well, like it was yesterday. In the photo Rosalie and I are cuddling each other.

I am surprised to see that I am in the picture; I did not know that people who were invisible could be seen in pictures. Anyway, there is Rosalie and I, we were still at our old school, enjoying the environment we were in, all the people were nice there, teachers were fun loving and laid back, everything was perfect, my life there, was perfect.

You can tell by our faces that we are just happy. Rosalie has her chestnut red hair curled and bouncy, her olive skin is glowing, her brown eyes warm and inviting and then there is her jaw dropping smile that lights up the entire picture. Then there is me; with my gigantic smile, which could not even melt ice, my brown hair kinky and wild, and my pale skin glistening in the sunlight. I pull the picture off the wall to take a closer look.

Where had the girl I was in that picture gone? What happened to her? Am I the human shell she left behind? All these questions begin racing through my mind. Ever since I had moved schools everything I knew about myself was lost. I used to be the girl who was accused of being on drugs most of the time, laughing hysterically, jumping around and virtually making people wet themselves with laughter, but now I do not even attempt to smile most of the time. Even if I do it is so weak and fake that I know people can tell.

I place the photo back onto my wall and look over at my alarm clock; it's only nine-thirty. I have nothing better to do so I crawl into bed. I turn on my lamp and I stare into space. After what feels like minutes, I look at my alarm clock again; it's now one in the morning. I roll over onto my back and sigh. School in seven hours…I was dreading it.

I am sitting on the bus to school. The morning ride to school is the worst part of the day, and why is this? This is because every morning I step on the bus and no one looks at me, and no I am not exaggerating. Like this morning for example, when I get on the semi-packed bus no one looks up, I know this because every single morning I check to see if someone glances, it's my ritual. I stand at the bus door for at least a minute before I actually validate my ticket.

Even my prolonged pause does not attract any attention. I always sit on the second seat from the front, so every time someone walks in I am able to see if the bus pays any attention. And the moment I turn my head every time, the whole bus looks up from what they are doing and watch closely as if the person at the front door of the bus is about to give the answer to solve peace in the middle east, but for me not even one glance. I have now become immune to my concealment from _these_ people. Like the saying "men are from Mars and women are from Venus", this saying is very true in my books but slightly adjusted. For me it's "teenagers are from Earth and Bella is from Pluto". But what am I to do? No one sees me; no one listens to me so obviously no one cares. Before I know it I am at school.

'Dear God, save me now!' I mumble to myself. The bus comes to a complete halt; I heave myself off the grey seated bus and saunter toward the bus' exit and climb down the stairs, I however have to stabilise myself to ensure that I do not end up on the concrete, face down. I make my way through the iron gates into the school grounds. There are pigeons everywhere; everyone becomes nervous when a pigeon makes an escape through the locker bay at my school, no one wants pigeon crap in their hair these days, which is understandable. I make it to my locker and it is completely empty around me, which is nothing, unusual. Bobbing down I quickly spin my lock this way and that then pull down hard to open it. I quickly throw in my bag and slam my locker shut. I sit on the cold concrete stairs near my locker. There was thirty minutes up my sleave,

'Dear God, save me now'….

The next thing I know, I am in Psychology. This class infuriates me so, and this is as no one can read. Pronunciation is another language to these people. People in this class mix up simple words such as 'to' and 'or'; the list of muck-ups is endless. Nevertheless, my invisibility detains me from gaining the spotlight; as you can see I am even invisible even to my teachers. So every psychology class I sit in the back corner, in silence and I shake my head in dismay at the abilities of my peers. When the bell rings my living ordeal of hell is discontinued, and I am severely grateful.

"Bella, there you are!" shouts Rosalie from the other side of the courtyard as I make my way out of the 'L' block.

"You, me tonight at 'The Cult'" she squeals with excitement. "I got great tickets, at the last minute of course, and I really, really want you to come" Rosalie pleaded.

Going to 'The Cult' was something I did not want to do, I hate music gigs.

"Ah, Rosalie…….I….umm……can't….i have……ah……a stack of homework……I have to do…", "Bullshit! You told me yesterday that you finished all your homework and I know that you're lying, you can't look me in the eye" she whined.

"Please. C'mon Bella, please go with me" she pleaded. Rosalie looked at me with pleading eyes, she caught my bluff, and what else was I to do?

"Fine" I blurted, throwing my right hand in the air.

"Thanks" she squealed, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Love you", Rosalie quickly let go, "See you in a sec" she says. I shuffle toward my locker, with my stomaching growling for food. Suddenly I am propelled to the ground. My books, pencil case and folders are scattered across the school courtyard and I a split second later, I feel the harsh concrete under my knees. "Sorry mate didn't see you there" some Aussie football fanatic says, with no amount of remorse in his voice. I glare at him with fury; however I do not need to worry about total humiliation, as I am invisible. People can not even see me walking through the courtyard. Picking myself up, I gather all my belongings briskly and hasten to my locker.

Throwing my books in, I grab my recess and pace back in the direction I came from to where Rosalie is sitting.

"Oh my God, Bella…you're bleeding!" she exclaims, pointing at my legs. I look down to where she is pointing; blood is trickling from my knee down to my ankle.

"Oh for………" I exhale. "Hey I'll be right back" I say, throwing my food at her and limping toward the toilet. When I get there the blood from the gash on my knee has trickled down to my t-bar school shoes, and is all over my white school socks. I turn on the tap and prop my leg onto the sink.

I begin wetting my hands and wiping away the excess blood. After a few quick wipes, the bleeding has stopped. I run to the first cubical and rip of some toilet paper and wipe my leg clean.

"That's better" I mumble to myself. I walk out and go back to Rosalie. "What happened?" she asked.

"Some guy knocked me over, apparently he didn't 'see me'" I exclaim.

"Oh" she whispers. Rosalie knows how I feel about myself; she does not question anything I say anymore. Her silence is my support. We both spend our recess in total silence. When the bell goes we stand up, smile and go our separate ways. That is the beauty of our friendship.


	3. Chapter 3

When I get home, its four o'clock; I have barley got through the door and the phone is ringing. I run to the kitchen and answer it.

"Hello…" I pant, "Oh good your home. I'm coming over" says Rose really fast, on the other end, and then she hangs up. "No problem, see you in a bit" I say to myself, sarcastically. I hang up the phone and skid into the lounge and I jump onto the couch. I begin flicking through the channels, but nothings on, yet again. After fifteen minutes of watching some children's show, I am saved by a knock at the door.

"Please tell me you are not wearing that backless top you own tonight!" she yells the moment the door creeks open. "Hi Rose, yeah come right in….." I reply sarcastically. "No I'm not. Relax. Yes you can borrow it" I yell back. "Thank you" she blurts. Rose squeezes past me into the hallway. She walks into the direction of my room and I follow, slowly closing the door behind me. "So, what are you wearing tonight?" she asked. "I have no idea" I reply half-heartedly. Rose turns at the top of the stairs suddenly and faces me; I almost stumble backwards in shock. "Belles trust me. You'll have an awesome time tonight." She mumbles, frustrated by my negativity.

I exhale deeply and look at her. "So what am I going to wear" I say with a smile. Rose smiles back at me. When we get into my room, Rose walks straight into my cupboard and starts throwing clothes everywhere. She begins mumbling to herself, and I try to listen to what she is saying, "Band t-shirt, tights…Do you have any converse shoes" she asks. "Yeah I do, why?" I respond. "I have found your outfit for tonight" she turns and throws a number of pieces of clothing at me. I place them on the bed next to me and I shuffle through them. Rose has pulled out black skinny legs, an oversized band t-shirt and my cons.

"I'm wearing this tonight?" I asked, astonished, "Rose I can't wear this, not on my beloved body" I say, continuing to stare down at my hourglass frame. "Yes you can. I can make you look stunning. 'Kay, just trust me" she pleaded. 'Where have I heard that saying before' I say to myself; Rose continues to rummage through my wardrobe until she finally finds the top she was looking for. I watch her move to my dressing mirror and she slowly starts getting ready. After about twenty minutes she is done, and she looks fantastic. Rose is wearing my simple yellow, backless top, which against her olive skin illuminated her skin tone, with blue skinny jeans and black heels. She has re-curled her already naturally chestnut red curly hairs, fixed up her eye make up and lightly lined her lips with gloss.

She turns around to face me. "Why aren't you dressed?" she yells, I am taken aback by her sudden out burst. "I was waiting for you to finish so I could use the mirror" I explained. "Well there you go, get ready" she bellowed. I rose from my bed and shuffle toward the mirror. I look at my hair and bare face. 'How was I going to make myself look stunning?' No amount of money could do that. Rose leaves my room so I can quickly change. "You can come back now" I yell out to her the moment I was done. She stumbles in, "I told you you'd look good" she beamed, I look at myself, I look like a little rocker, without make up.

"Sit" she demands and I obey. Before I know it, my hair is being pulled this way and that; creams and powders are placed all over my face and I have no control on what is happening to me, and I absolutely hate it. "Done" she pants. After sitting there for thirty minutes, with no self control, Rose has finished. I look at myself in the mirror to see what Rose has done, and I am amazed, it does not even look like me. Rose has placed my hair in a messy ponytail and then she has lined my eyes with black liner and added a tone of mascara.

She has left my lips bare and has not put on any blush or bronzer. I look the part of a true rocker. "Wow, I am impressed" I exclaim, still gawking, "You can look at yourself later, we're gonna be late" she says. Rose grabs my hand and we bolt downstairs into the kitchen. I grab the note pad from the phone and quickly scrawl a note for mum and dad; _mum & dad, I am at 'The Cult' with Rose. I will be back later tonight. Call if you need me…Love Belles._

I stuck the note onto the fridge where my parents will be able to see, and turn to face Rose, but she has disappeared. "Rose!" I shout. "Yeah I'm out here!" she shouts back. I follow the sound of her voice to the front door. There she is, standing with some idiotic rocker wanna-be, with straight, long brown hair and a doped up smile across his face. I look at him with an unimpressed glare. "Rose can I talk to you for a moment….in _private_" I say through gritted teeth, but she does not hear me. Rose is battering her eyelashes at this idiotic guy, so I pull her by her right arm back into the house.

"Who the hell is that?" I ask, frustrated. "Oh, that's Royce. Isn't he dreamy?" she asks, with a sweet smile across her face. "Rose you have got to be joking? That guy is a….a…a Wanker!" I yell loud enough so 'Royce' hopefully gets the message.

"Belles stop being a bitch, Royce got me the tickets and he is taking us tonight…"

"I am not stepping foot in a car with that doped up junkie" I retort, through gritted teeth. I am trying really hard to keep my cool. "Belles you're going tonight, dressed like that and in Royce's car. If I have to wrench you by your hair then I will" she replies. Rose glares at me with pure anger. "Fine" I mumble, I knew when to back out of an inevitable end to a lost battle. Rose walks out the front door in a huff and leaves me alone in the empty house. I consider quickly bolting the door shut, so I would not have to go, but I could not be bothered making a stand. I shuffle slowly after Rose and lock the door behind me. When I turn around Rose and Royce are already in the car. 'Our father who art in heaven….' I begin praying, 'Dear God let me live a little longer and I swear I will do anything you ask….'

Royce's driving was suicidal. We got pulled over TWICE by the cops and they gave Royce a speeding ticket, but does that make him slow down? I think the police even knew that Royce would not get the message, and who the hell gets pulled over twice in forty minutes anyway? I ask myself, astonished in the back seat. Rose gets out and pulls the seat forward so I can hobble out as well. I quickly grab her hand before she walks off, "I am not being driven home by this despicable driver. I want to live to see my eighteenth birthday, Rose" I mumble, terrified and frustrated. "Walk then" she spits back and yanks her arm free from my grasp. "Bitch" I mutter under my breath. I eventually squeeze out of the car and close the car door behind me and check my makeup in the car window before walking after Rose.

'The Cult' is off the main highway, just before the inner city. When we arrived, outside is packed; young people were scattered everywhere, drinking and smoking. I feel so out of place. All these social butterflies talking and conversing away, while I stand here like a frozen ice sculpture, who knows no one, I am probably invisible to them as well. "Belles, hurry up" yells Rose from ahead. I jog a few steps to catch up with her. I am so glad she made me wear my cons; at least I was semi-stable while running. I catch up with Rose and Royce as they are handing the tickets to the door man; I smile at him as sweetly as possible, but he looks over me at people behind me. Great even someone who is paid to look at people can not see me.

I walk in completely oblivious to where I was but when I am finally out of the door I am astonished at what I can see. 'The Cult' inside was a colossal dome, all around were raised balconies where people were able to sit and drink in white booths, in the centre of the dance floor was a stage set up for the numerous unknown bands performing tonight and it was almost packed.

The interior designing was fun and quirky, new age Goth mixed with modern furniture. I was actually quiet fond of it. As I was examining the club, I was suddenly pulled by the arm forcefully and pulled into the closest both, by Rose. "What do you want to drink?" she asks, "Um, whatever" I respond. Rose whispers something to Royce and he goes straight to the bar. "So do you like the place? I really thought you would" she was trying to make small talk and get me to feel comfortable. "Yeah it's really……..me" I say with a smile, she smiles back. "See I knew you would like it here" she responds, by now Royce was back with drinks. He hands me some drink, "What's in this?" I ask, but the first band is beginning to play and my question is unheard. I look at it with a screwed up face, 'bottom's up' I tell myself and I scull the entire glass.

I can feel the alcohol burn the back of my throat. I breathe in deep and shake my head. I gesture the glass back at Royce for a re-fill and he understands. I begin concentrating on the band that was playing. They are called 'Death Serenade'; the name threw my right off. The second the singers lips hit the microphone he starts "singing".

To me it was like a car crash. The only words I actually caught were 'death', 'die' and 'kill'. I roll my eyes; people call this music? I call it psychotic screaming. Royce comes back with more than just one re-fill. He leans closer to me, "It's easier if we buy a heap and leave 'em here" he whispers into my ear, I lean back to get a least some distance between us. Royce is even uglier up close; I did not think that was humanly possible and to make the situation even worse, he smelt nauseating. It was a mixture of sweat, stale smoke and alcohol. I nod in understanding, trying to hold my breath as long as possible, without drawing attention and I quickly turn my head in the direction of the stage to look at the next band and gasp for some "fresher" air.

After about six of the same crap bands with the same crap music and ten shots of whatever Royce was serving me I was deaf and intoxicated. The room starts spinning, my head feels like it weighs a tonne one my shoulders and my mouth is dry. I place my right hand against my face to see how hot it was. "Are you 'Kay Belles?" asks Rose after a while. I shake my head as best I could.

"Come with me" she says, gently taking my hand and taking me into the restrooms. Rose rests me against the sinks. She wets her hands and places them against my face. They feel like ice against my scorching skin. I close my eye to make the dizziness stop, but it does not help, it in fact becomes worse. I start breathing heavily and my stomach is churning. I feel whatever was in there start to slowly creep up. I start dry reaching. I push Rose a side and lung toward the cubical. I make it just in time. I throw up everything I had that day. I cough and splutter, trying to get out as much of the trash from my body as possible.

After what seems like an hour, I feel slightly better, but only slightly. I wipe my mouth with toilet paper, flush the toilet and hobble to the sink. I steady myself. "Do they have water here?" I ask softly. "I'll go and get you some, don't move" Rose demands and she quickly runs out to the bar. I am alone in the toilets I look at myself in the mirror, 'I am never drinking again' I vow. The screaming from outside subsides; I step out to see what has happened. The club owner is introducing the final performer for the night.

'Oh great another screaming psycho' I mumble to myself, I am about to step back into the restrooms but the next performer walking onto the stage catches my eye. It is only one guy with an acoustic guitar. He is wearing a leather jacket, with a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. I squint to focus my blurry gaze. I can see that he has a small medallion on around his neck, which swayed every time he leant over to adjust his guitar strings. I look up slightly but I can not make out his face, the only thing I can see is that he is wearing a grey baggy beanie with the ends of his bronzed hair hanging out the bottom. I squint harder but that just completely blurs my vision so I change my focus back to the music. He begins strumming his guitar and a rhythm is beginning to fill the silent club, but when he opens his mouth to sing his husky voice sweeps over everyone. Ever word he says is gruff and unpolished. I am in awe of this singer. His lyrics are like another language to me but this mesmerising moment ends in three short minutes. "Thanks" he mumbles into the microphone, and walks off stage.

The audience roar in applause and cheer, it is more deafening then the bands songs from before. My throat is too dry to yell so I clap instead. "Here" pants Rose, handing me the bottle of ice cold water. "Thanks" I mumble opening the bottle quickly and sculling the contents. "Come on, let's get Royce. I want to go home" she whispers into my ear, taking my hand and leading me to the clubs exit. We stumble out and see Royce waiting by the car. "She isn't gonna barf in my car is she?" he asks rudely,

"She won't", Rose replies, helping me into the backseat.

After another forty five minute drive back home, I yet again, stumble out of the back seat on to the cobble drive way. My parents have left the porch light on, so I can see what I am doing. Rose decides to spend the night at mine, so she kisses Royce good bye, and he then the jumps back into his car and hoons off down the street. I fumble around my big black bag for the house keys.

"Did you have fun?" Rose whispers, I find the keys, finally. "One moment" I reply sticking up my index finger. I turn and throw up over the railings of the porch. Rose shuffles toward me and holds my hair back and pats my back. When I stop, we stand outside in silence for a moment; all you can hear is the creaking of the crickets. I eventually put the keys into the door and turn the knob. The door creaks open; Rose and I stumble in; we try and not laugh hysterically, and wake my sleeping parents. We shuffle upstairs to my room, for a night of deep, peaceful slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

Just a quick not from me to you… If you like this, would you please go and check out the original, i.e. one that is not twilighted

So please will you check it out??? Here is the link

.com/s/2637200/1/Secrets_of_the_Unseen

lol and if it didn't work it is

www dot fictionpress dot com / s / 2637200 / 1 / Secrets _ of _ the _ unseen

lol minus the spaces and replace the words with their characters lol

thanks again and I hope to see you all on fiction press


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning I wake with an excruciating headache and I am parched. I roll over and see Rose hanging off the other end of the bed. I kick her gently and she turns to face me.

"Oh good, you're alive" she whispers. I propel my head up onto my arm.

"How much did I drink last night?" I ask, massaging my sore head.

"I have no idea. I think you drank all the shots Royce bought for us. That was roughly ten to twelve glasses" she looks at me with sympathy,

"Do you remember anything from last night" she asks. I look to the wall across my room for a distraction. What could I remember? I remember Royce 's horrific driving, the colossal dome club, the music starting, and then throwing up and that's about it.

"I don't remember much Rose. I can only pin point what happened until the music started, then there is a gapping hole of lost memories; and finally throwing up in the toilets. I didn't do anything stupid did I? I ask, beginning to panic. I do not know why I was panicking. No one can see me, so there was no need for panicking.

"No you didn't, thankfully" she replies, "So you don't remember anything about the music? That's why I wanted to take you, so you could get a taste for the new age music out there…."

"No wait….." I cut her off, jumping up into a sitting position,

"Wait I do remember the first psycho screaming band…"

I begin clicking my fingers to help me remember.

"Then the last guy. The one in the leather jacket, white tee and ripped jeans. He was wearing the grey beanie, with his bronzy hair hanging out the sides and back, he had the guitar" Rose looks at me strangely.

"I asked what _music _not what their _outfits _were" she says sarcastically. I am actually surprised on how much I remember, especially about one singer, while I was in complete intoxication. Suddenly the bedroom door squeaks open.

"I thought I could hear talking", it was mum, in her cleaning clothes.

"Come on downstairs; let me fix you girls some breakfast" she says, sweetly smiling. She closes the door and I can hear her walking down the staircase. I roll out of bed and walk to my dressing mirror. I am horrified at what is looking back at me, being intoxicated takes its toll on you. I had not removed any of my make up from last night so I have eyeliner and mascara half way down my face all smudged, my hair was like a bird nest and my skin was terrible.

"Do you want to shower first?" I ask Rose, while still examining my face in the mirror.

"I'll go, then you. Is that alright?" she replies.

"Yeah go for it" I assure her. She grabs her bag and walks out of my room. I shuffle back to my bed and crawl under the covers. I feel warm and snug. I do not want to ever leave this warm sanctuary, but unfortunately I have to. My eye lids become heavy and before I know it, I have fallen asleep.

I am awoken by the ray of the evening sun setting, leaking through my window. I feel a cool summer breeze sweep through. I roll over and breathe in deeply; the fresh air is a good change from the smell of alcohol. I get up and walk straight to the toilet. Once I am finished I shuffle into the bathroom and cleanse my face. I feel so much better already. I run a brush through my bird nest hair and I pull it into a messy bun.

"Belles are you up?" I hear mum yell from the bottom of the staircase. I run to the stairs and stick my head over the railings,

"Yeah, I'm coming now" I reply. I run back into my room put on some socks and walk back down the stairs. "Mum, I'm hungry" I say weakly. "I have already put out food for you" she replies. I walk into the kitchen, and on the bench is pasta. My mouth is drooling; I have not eaten since lunch yesterday.

"Did Rose stay for breakfast?" I ask, with my mouth full. "Yeah, she said you were sleeping and she didn't want to wake you. She also said she will call you in the morning". I finished eating in under ten minutes. "So how was it last night?" mum asks, washing the dishes. "Yeah alright, I guess" I did not want to give too much away on my alcohol consumption last night. "Belles I know you don't remember much. You were drunk. You don't have to lie" mum gestures, her tone was normal, she was not on any medication or under the influence of alcohol, and so naturally I was shocked at her reaction. Most parents would be infuriated finding out how much alcohol their children consumed. I thought she would bar me from ever leaving my room if she found out how drunk I was. "I heard you throwing up outside" she adds, "And your bedroom smelt like a brewery. I had to open the window to allow fresh air in there". "Oh" I whispered, at least she was not mad or anything. I look up at the clock on the wall; it was seven in the evening. "I'm going to shower" I say walking toward the staircase. I shuffle up the parquetry stairs into the bathroom. I decide that a bubble bath would be better. I turn on the water and allow the bath to fill slowly. I watch as the bathroom mirrors begin to fog, and when I can no longer see my reflection, I undress and carefully sit in the bath. The water scorches my body at first, but as my body temperature changes, the water becomes warm. I decide to light lavender candles to relax me, and they help. I close my eyes and fall into deep relaxation. I begin reflecting on my first few weeks at my new school, and the good one's at my old one. I think about the people who I liked and who cared about me and then about those who do not notice me at all. Then one face pops into my mind, Dimitri's face.

Dimitri is Russian. He came to my old school during year nine. I remember the first time I laid eyes on him, I was in awe. He has an olive complexion, charming brown eyes; his hair is curly, long and an earthy dark brown. He is exceptional soccer player and was known for that. I was besotted with him from then on and I still am. Every time he walks past me I melt. I smile to myself, thinking of Dimitri and his heart warming smile, with his glistening white teeth. I would do anything for him to look at me for just a moment. I want one of those looks like from the old Hollywood films, when the girl enters the room and the one she desires, stops what he is doing and glances up and is in utter awe of her; like there is no other girl in the room. What I would give for him to look at me like that, however that desire will always be a dream; an unreachable dream.

After twenty minutes of self reflection, I am drowsy. I jump out of the bath and dry off. I dress into my pyjamas and walk into my room. It is only eight-thirty. I rummage around my desk for a book to read. Which one to choose, I have a choice of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' down to teen fiction. I decide that Nicholas Sparks 'A walk to remember' is a winner. I jump onto my bed and snuggle into my blankets. I prop my pillows up to support my head while I read. When I am completely comfortable I begin reading. By the eighth chapter the words become blurry and mumbled. I am struggling to keep my eyes open. I yawn and stretch, I look over to my alarm clock, eleven-thirty. I close the book and switch off my lamp, and then I roll over to one side, snug in my bed. I fall asleep instantly.

When I wake up it is ten in the morning. I roll over to check my phone. There is over ten missed calls and fifteen messages. I look through them and they are all from Rose. I text her back, and get a response immediately. She tells me she will explain everything in person. I jump out of bed as quickly as possible and change into track suit pants and a baggy jumper, the perfect Sunday clothing. I walk to the bathroom and yank a brush through my hair while trying to brush my teeth. It was multi-tasking at its best. Once I was done, I rushed down the stairs to see if mum or dad were home. As usual they have gone out. I was ecstatic; having the whole house to me was the best part of the weekend. There is a sudden knock on the door. I run to it and yanked it open. There is Rose standing there, eyes bloodshot from crying. "Rose…." I say quietly. She squeezes past me and drops her hand bag in the middle of the hall way. I close the door quietly and look at her. She breathes in and out deeply, trying to regain herself. I take her hand and lead her into the lounge room. She sits on the couch and turns to face me. "I went to Royce 's yesterday…" she whispers, "What for I asked?" shocked, she had not told me that she was interested in Royce . "I wanted to see him Belles. I thought he was the one for me. We had such a fantastic evening on Friday night, I realised we have so much in common, he understands me; I thought he was special. He made me feel alive, wanted, needed and most of all loved" she sighs heavily and lets out a few sobs.

"Anyway we spent the day together. Royce took me down to the coast. It was so beautiful, we ate fish'n'chips on the beach, while watching the crashing waves tumble upon the sand. We went running around in the surf and we shared soft sweet kisses; everything at that moment was perfect. He took me to his place, where we were kissing and stuff got really hot. He led me to his room…" Rose stops. She is hysterical, her face is in her hands; her body is shaking. I scoot closer to her on the couch and cuddle her in my arms. "Rose, did he hurt you?" I ask horrified at what she would say. Rose begins hyperventilating. "Don't move" I say, standing up and running into the kitchen for a glass of water. When I get back, Rose is curled up in a ball on the couch, with tears still pouring down her face. I place the glass on to our solid, wooden coffee table. I sit on the floor in front of Rose and begin stroking her hair out of her face,

"Rose, did he hurt you?" I ask again. I do not want to pressure her for an answer, but I was beginning to panic. Rose wipes her eyes, and exhales yet again; I hand her the glass of water. She gets back into a sitting position. She sculls the contents of the glass and wipes her eyes again. "He took me into his room and in there was…was…was……another girl" she breaks down again. I sigh with relief silently, thanking God that she was alright and unharmed. I sit back on the couch next to her, wrapping her in my arms again, trying to soothe her. "Rose it is alright. He's not worth it anyway…" I whisper, why I was giving Rose relationship advice, I do not know. I am the last person people should seek for any advice, let alone advice on relationships. I had never experienced a relationship, so this was really not my forte. "Royce does not deserve you. Rose you are beyond that man's reach and keep it that way. Do not bring yourself down for that imbecile, I know I wouldn't" I continue. I stop talking and allow Rose to continue crying.

After fifteen minutes, Rose's crying has subsided. I get up off the couch and walk to the television cabinet and begin rummaging through the DVD's. I take out a selection of the chick flick classics; I deliberate and narrow it down to three titles. "So Titanic, Breakfast at Tiffany's or Moulin Rouge?" I ask. Rose points at Moulin Rouge, I was ecstatic, it is my all time favourite movie. I put it on and walk into the kitchen. I raid the cupboard for as much junk food as I could carry. I walk back into the lounge and put the food on the coffee table. I hand Rose a spoon and open the cookies and cream ice cream, the only cure for a woman's broken heart. I press 'play' for the movie to begin.

By the end Rose and I are hysterical. What I would do for a man as passionate as Ewan McGregor's character. A man who would not only write me songs, but love me passionately, kisses me truly and makes me his whole world. What I would give for a moment of passion and desire. I decide that we needed to now hear voice of reason and understanding. Words of pain, anguish and then redemption and emancipation; I pull out 'heartbreakers' cd. It was a cd my mum made for one of her friends, who by the way has 'Bastards welcome' tattooed across her forehead. That woman has had more breakups then Paris Hilton. I put on the cd and turn the volume on extremely high. I grab the television remote and begin singing with all my heart. I am jumping around, screaming and dancing. I look over at Rose, who is looking at me, bemused. I beckon her with my hand and she joins. I hand her the remote and I take a spoon. We spend hours screaming to every ballad, from Gloria Gaynor's 'I will survive" to Elvis Presley's 'Heartbreak hotel'.

By the end we are covered head to toe with perspiration and are gasping for breath. Suddenly we hear a car pull into the drive way, it was my parents for sure. I run to the window to make sure, and sure enough it was them. It must be late, as it was completely dark outside; time had escaped us once again. Rose and I begin cleaning up all the food we had eaten. There was enough here to entertain an army, it was unbelievable. I begin washing what few dishes we used, humming a tune. "Thanks Belles" utters Rose, smiling at me weakly. "Any time" I say, smiling back. "Belles, where home" my dad shouts from the lounge. I can hear the television being turned on. Mum walks into the kitchen. "Hi girls" she says, sitting on the bar stool, "What did you two get up to today?" she asks, taking a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it. "Not much, Nikki, just having a girls day in" Rose responds. My mum winks at us, "I'll leave you to it" she says walking off into the lounge. "Belles I'm gonna go, thanks again" she mumbles. I walk her to the front door. We step outside and it has cooled down from yesterday.

We hug each other goodbye and I watch Rose as she walks down the driveway into her car. I wave from the porch, watching her drive off into the night. When I hear her car turn the corner, I sigh. Tomorrow was Monday, great another weak of concealment. I sigh heavily, again and sit on the wooden park bench we have on the porch. I sit and I stare, stare into the darkness ahead, hoping that there was someone, somewhere doing the same thing. Sitting and staring, hoping, believing, wishing that there was something greater out there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Just to let you guys know, this story has been de-twilighted, but dont let that deter you, the story is still the same **

**FIVE**

"Children you must embrace the time you have. Use it to your full advantage, take nothing for granted. If you do, only you will suffer in the end…" Mr. Bagnetto is standing in front of the room, telling us for the hundredth time this term about the importance of year 11. I have heard it all before, 'God SAVE ME!!!' Suddenly the class-room door flies open. Everyone looks in that direction immediately, desperate to be saved from boredom. In walks Dimitri. My heart begins pounding against my chest, my breathing gets extremely heavy, and I am in shock.

"Ah, Mr. Stanislav, welcome to my English class. Find a seat and let's get started" Mr. Bagnetto returns to the board and begins writing instructions on the board, Dimitri however is still standing there looking for a seat.

I begin gawking at him, like he was a rare diamond. His olive skin and dark eyes smoulder sex appeal and his curls fall around his face. I turn and look around the class, then suddenly realise that the only seat left is next to me. I stop breathing…

'Oh please don't sit next to me, God don't let him' my prayers were useless, Dimitri was making his way toward my table. I quickly shuffle to the very edge of the table and look straight ahead, trying desperately to avoid any eye contact, I buckle. I turn and watch him as he sits himself on the seat next to me, he turns and smiles. His smiles ear to ear, his perfect white teeth glisten in from the lights in the classroom, I melt. Over the next hour I try desperately to not stare at him, but I am unsuccessful. I had never seen him up close before. I could see the stubble on his cheeks; see the expressions he makes while his thinking, I was in utter awe. Every time I turned to look however, he would look up as well. My face turns bright red each and every time.

"Hey, umm I don't know your name sorry, but can you help me with this?" he asks. I am taken aback. He was speaking to me.

"It's Belle" I whisper, burning red.

"Ok, Belle. What do I have to do?" he asks again, smiling.

My hopes and dreams of being seen were coming closer and closer by the minute. I spent the next hour talking and laughing with Dimitri. His smile blew me away every time, what I would have given for this moment to never end, sadly it did with the bell ringing. I sigh and pick up my books, watching Dimitri walk out before me. By the time I am at my locker, the whole school is out and flooding the courtyard. I quickly pace across and wait for Ella by the tree. I open my container and scoff down the fruit salad. Monday mornings were always the worst. Everyone always had something horrific to hide about their wild weekends. Thankfully, no one knows me and therefore no one cares.

"BELLES!" Ella screams running toward me.

"How's the head?" she asks, smiling.

"Alright I guess" I reply with a mouthful of fruit. Ella was so happy today. Her eyes were no longer red and puffy from excessive crying and she had a continuous smile across her face.

"What's up with you?" I ask, trying to suss out what was going on.

"Nothing why?" she responds automatically.

"Just asking" I say, averting my gaze towards Dimitri.

"Guess who's in my English class" I say slyly, Ella looks at me, but does not answer. I know she knows who it is.

"No way!" she gasps, "Did you talk to him?"

"Yeah I did" I smile. "He is so easy to talk to, so that makes me like him even more" I say, still smiling. The bell rings for class. Ella and I both sigh, I have literature. Ella turns to look at me and I look at her. We take our right hands, make them into the shape of a gun and point at our temples, 'BOOF' I mouth and so does she. We begin laughing, only ninety minutes of unimaginable hell.

Literature is hell on earth for me. I despise the teacher, his thoughts and his attitude. He evidently has no high expectations of me. Every comment I say is turned into a "Yeah that is possible, but it's more like this…" Every time I receive that I clench my fists, to prevent myself from lunging toward him a gauging out his eyes. Today was no different. Every comment or view was shot down, no acknowledgement for my opinions. So I shut my mouth and count down the minutes to lunch. When the bell rings I get up and walk out, even though Mr. Swanston is still drowning on about 'Taming of the Shrew'. I hear my name being called out, but ignore it. It was only the end of term one and I was prepared to quit schooling.

I shuffle to my locker and grab my lunch, heading back towards my beloved tree. Ella is already there and on the phone, I sit beside her, not wanting to disturb her. I begin eating, patiently waiting. By the time I am finished, she is of the phone.

"So what are you doing these holidays Belles?" she asks.

"Nothing, I don't think, I might be going camping with the parents and cousins, but that's about it. You?" I respond.

"Not much, just bumming around out here" she laughs. I smile back at her. Savannah walks past with her groupies. I look at her and can not imagine what guys see in her. She wasn't _that_ pretty up close. I could pick out other people more beautiful then her at this school; Ella is one of those people. Just as she walks past Dimitri is making his way towards us. My breathing gets heavier and I start to shake. Was he coming over here? I begin to ask myself. I look at him, trying to get an indication of where he was going; he was defiantly marching straight toward us. He smiles his mesmerising smile, my heart skips a beat. He was coming closer and closer…he walks up to Savannah and cuddles her, kissing her cheek. I am stunned. I never knew they spoke.

"Dimitri, stop it" she giggles, but he doesn't let go.

He gnaws at her neck and she brushes her hands through his hair. My jaw is now sitting in my lap. It was like I was hit by a bus. Out of all the guys to throw themselves at her, Dimitri had to be the one I liked. I get up suddenly and hasten to the toilets. I get there and run into the last cubical, locking the door. I push the toilet seat down and sit on it. I bring my knees to my chest and huddle myself together to stop myself falling apart. Why does this always happen to me? I ask myself, tears welling in my eyes. Why couldn't he be like that with me? He knows I exist, doesn't he? All these questions race through my mind.

"Belles, are you in here?" Ella asks, softly. I see her shoes under the cubical door. I don't respond.

"Belles, can I come in?" she asks. I yet again do not respond. I hear her walking away however she moves into the next cubical and stands on the toilet seat to look over.

"Belles, are you ok? Do you want me to get you anything?" I shake my head, "I just want to be alone for a bit please".

I whisper. With that, I hear Ella climb down and walk out of the toilets. I begin to cry. Tears stream down my face. Seeing the one you love in another's arms is the worst thing ever witnessed by another. The bell rings for class. I don't move; Maths was not something I wanted to do. I sit in the toilets until I hear complete and utter silence. I sigh heavily and make my way to my locker. There was no way I was sitting in class now. I take out my bag and walk right out of the school. Out the gates, across the road, and make my way home.

Walking home was really calming. By the time I was home all the tears had vanished, but the pit of sadness was still there. I felt myself slip slowly and slowly down. When I finally get home, I push open the door and close it behind me. I was home alone, as always. I walk into the lounge room, drop my bag and fall onto the couch. I lie on my side and curl up. I lie there, in silence. There was nothing for me to do. So I close my eyes. Before I know it, I am asleep.

I am awoken by my mum shaking me gently.

"Belles, time for dinner" she says. I open one eye and look at her, "I'm not hungry" I respond, closing my eye again.

"If you're not going to eat then go upstairs to sleep, its much quieter" she says, walking back into the kitchen. I take her advice. I get up slowly, stretch and begin walking towards the staircase. I walk up the stairs, making my way to my room. I was neither tired nor hungry, but all I wanted to do was sleep. So that's what I did. I pulled of my school clothes, jumped into my pyjamas and lay in bed, I feel back asleep almost immediately.

I am awoken by the radio on my alarm. Tuesday, what a boring day; I consider faking an illness to stay home, but I don't want to be locked up in here all day either. School was my only liveable option. I get dressed slowly and don't even bother doing my hair. I eat a bit of toast and walk straight down to the bus stop. When the bus arrives, I get on. I cannot be bothered to see if anyone can see me. I sit alone near the front of the bus. When the bus comes to a stop I don't bother doing my routine of seeing if anyone is looking up. I was so over everything at this point, there was nothing to look forward to anymore.

"Hey" I hear. I turn to my left and see a girl sitting opposite to me. She has dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a cheesy smile across her face; I think her name is Mary. I look at her but I don't respond. She begins talking anyway. She goes on and on about how she is doing units 3 and 4 IT and about her grades. All I want to do is turn around and tell her to shut the fuck up but I don't.

"Can I ask you a question?" she finally ends. I look at her but still don't respond. There is a silence for a moment and I am thankful.

"Why do you always look angry?" I look at her, no expression across my face.

She is waiting for an answer; thankfully the bus comes to a complete stop. I look out the window and see that we are finally a school. I get up and walk off the bus. I don't answer Mary's question. Why does she care if I look angry? It is none of her fucking business anyway. I was fuming. I walk to my locker throw in my bag and slam the door shut. I sit on the concrete stairs and wait. Wait for the next six hours to be over and done with.

Legal Studies was first up. I do not answer anything. I sit in the front and doodle on my book, waiting for the ninety minutes to end. When it does I am the first one out. I go to my locker, again throw in my books and slam it once again. I was slowly going insane with anger. I was absolutely going to explode but I had a very extensive thresh hold for anger. I walk towards Ella who is already waiting for her.

"Belles you ok?" she asks as soon as I sit next to her.

"Yeah I am effing fantastic" I spit; my pit of sadness now had turned into pure rage.

"Belles don't worry about it. He is a tool anyway" she responds. I look at her.

"I am not giving up. I am going to make him see that I am here. Even if it kills me Ella; I can't to this being "invisible" shit anymore. It is a head fuck" I notice that my swearing has now kicked in, dramatically. Ella looks at me and she knows that I am determined. We sit in silence for the rest of recess. Next was History for me, and then English. The bell rings, I pick myself up quickly. The quicker I get through the next two hours, the quicker and can see Dimitri.

I breeze through History and lunch, and then came English. I was the first to class. I sit in the same seat as before. Slowly and steadily the class grows. Last but not least Dimitri walks in, my heart stops again. He smiles his notorious smile yet again and I melt. I regain myself.

"Belle, how you going?" he looks at me still smiling. I let there be a pause.

"Alright, you?" I say, not looking. I do not want there to be any eye contact to distract me.

"Same. I just want to go home, so over this shit" he responds.

I nod in agreement. Dimitri shuffles his chair closer. I can smell the spray he has on. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent as quietly as possible. It was so the most divine smell I have ever smelt. It was sweet but in a masculine sense. While we are writing I watch him through the drapes of my long side fringe. He is in deep concentration, his hand glides across the pages of his book. What I would give to be that book at this moment. What I would do to just to reach out and caress his olive skinned hand. Feel the warmth of his hand under my fingertips. I look back down at my book and see that I have not written anything. Mr. Bagnetto stands in front of our desk and looks down at my page.

"I am disappointed to see you cannot perform simple tasks, Annabelle" he says, walking off.

"Cockhead" I mutter.

"What did you say?" Dimitri asks. I look up through my fringe to see him looking at me.

I refuse to look him in the eye so I find a little scar on his cheek to focus on.

"Nothing" I respond,

"Sure" he says flicking his head, he chuckles and returns back to work. I find myself yet again watching him write. When the bell rings I am somewhat relieved but disappointed. I pack up my books and walk out. That was one of the hardest ninety minutes of my life. Sitting so close to someone I love, but not being able to reach out and touch them; that is what I will have to face for the next ten months. Great, like I needed anymore torture.


End file.
